Hooked on You
by AfricanChieftess
Summary: Remember back in Season 4 when Haley was looking for something to wear for prom? Nathan said things that made her feel less-than-beautiful and she limped to the bathroom? How else would it have played out? One-shot that's semi-canon.


**Something old for the Naley fans...****  
**

* * *

In his fuzzy state, he hears sniffling and rattling. They are messing with his sleep.

For a moment, they stop, but then they resume again.

This time, there's another added sound, like someone is weeping.

Groaning, he rolls over on the bed. Instead of touching his wife's warm body, his hand is patting a cold and empty space.

Nathan opens one eye, the alarm clock on Haley's bedside table coming into focus.

6:14AM.

Raising his head, he leans on his elbows, looking around the room.

He's unsure whether a hurricane passed through while he slept.

There are clothes everywhere, brightly coloured ones spilling out of the closet, sitting on the dresser, the armoire, the floor, the bed, and even above the door.

Haley is standing by the mirror, supported by a crutch, trying to zip up the dress she's wearing.

She huffs, sniffles, tossing a stray strand of hair from her face.

Grunting, she tries again but the zipper doesn't budge, stuck on her waist.

"Stupid!"

"Did the closet explode?" he asks sleepily, squinting against the too-early morning light.

She turns to look at him, adjusting the bust of the short cream-coloured dress.

Her face is pink, eyes tinged with red. A wobbly smile touches her lips as she spreads her arms out.

"How do I look in this?"

He doesn't respond immediately, wondering what kind of trouble he'll get into when he does.

She's definitely filled it out, her breasts showing a healthy amount of cleavage, the bodice of the dress tight around her swollen belly.

"Is there a right answer to that question?"

Her face falls and she slaps at one of the garments angrily, sending it flying to the floor while still in its hanger.

"None of my dresses fit me anymore!" she yells, plunking down on the soft mattress.

"Baby, you're pregnant. They're not supposed to fit you," he says with a trace of amusement in his voice, moving to sit behind her.

He places a kiss on her warm, bare neck, rubbing at her stomach gently.

Usually, she would respond but she's definitely not in the mood.

Fiddling with the bust of the dress to pull it over her chest, Haley grumbles, "You know what else? The doctor said it's going to take six to eight weeks for my leg to heal. Prom is four weeks away, which means I am going to be stuck with these stupid crutches!"

She grabs a crutch, so furiously that it misses his forehead by a whisker.

Leaning over, he takes it from her hand, placing it on the bed beside him should she end up striking him with it.

"Hey, you don't know that."

Like she's not heard him, she sighs, tucking her hair behind her ears.

"In a perfect world, I would wear such a beautiful dress and I would dance with the man that I love…"

Choking out a sob, she shakes her head as she looks up at him, her eyes filling up with tears.

"But even if there was a dress _somewhere in this world that fit me_, we don't even have any money for it, a-anyway."

She sniffs, waving a hand away, swallowing back her sobs.

"It's okay. You know what? It's okay. I'll just…I'll go and I'll be pregnant and gimpy, and uh…you know, most likely wearing sweatpants."

Nathan wants to laugh at every dramatic thing she's said but he knows that if he does, it'll set her off.

He soothingly rubs her back in circles, pressing his lips to her smooth shoulder.

"Hey, you look great in anything, okay? It's alright, babe."

And then he puts his foot in his mouth.

"Except maybe that dress."

Her face hardens and pushing violently away from him, she grabs the other crutch, hobbling to the bathroom and slamming the door hard behind her.

He's left flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, the sound of her loud sobs coming through the door.

"Stupid."

* * *

Taking a few minutes before the first bell rings, Nathan plops down on one of the benches of an empty courtyard picnic table.

Pen in mouth, he unfolds the newspaper in his hands, spreading out the ad pages before him.

He needs a job. Badly.

Pretty soon, there'll be another mouth to feed, one that is probably more expensive than both he and Haley combined.

He doesn't want Haley to be on her feet working for the next few months before the baby comes. It horrifies him thinking of her slipping on the floor and hurting herself…or worse, something happening to the baby.

Skimming through the page, he mutters softly to himself at all the requirements that he doesn't have.

His only experience has been at a pretzel stand and a garage.

He knows he doesn't have the luxury of being too choosy but for the sake of his sanity, he needs a job that he can at least stomach.

Out of thin air, Skills drops down beside him.

"Yo, Nate! What up, dawg?"

Nathan circles an ad from a limo service, his eyes trailing across quickly for more jobs that look doable.

"Looking for a job." He glances at his friend, palms resting on paper.

"My dad helped us out of debt so I gotta make sure we stay that way. What's up with you?"

"Nothing," Skills says, adjusting his bag over his shoulder before leaning in conspiratorially.

"But, look. I got a way you can make some real quick cash."

With interest, Nathan cocks his head to the side.

"You know that club over there on Stine Street?"

"The strip club?" he asks cautiously.

Skills nods, wiggling his brows up and down.

That look makes Nathan shake his head vehemently.

"No. Whatever you're about to say, the answer is no."

"Oh, come on, dawg," Skills placates. "They have an amateur night tonight. A thousand dollar prize, man."

"Really? A thousand dollars?"

"A thousand dollars. Well, after the split, we each get five hundred. Think about what you could do with that kind of scratch."

There's a lot he can do with that kind of scratch.

Other than adding to their Baby Fund for the necessary baby items, they'll need to pay next month's rent and utilities. Not forgetting stocking up on groceries for Haley's regular cravings.

"Last year, the girls went crazy over you at boy toy. I'm telling you, me and you together, dawg, we can't lose."

Nathan just shakes his head again after a moment's pause. "The answer is still no. I'm sorry but I'm just not that desperate."

Skills shrugs. "Aight. But we could have blown up the place, though."

He chuckles, stashing away the paper in his backpack as the bell rings.

"Look, man. I've been watching these new Usher videos on TRL," Skills says. "The moves are tight, dawg. Look."

He stands, doing a weird dance with his fingers that makes Nathan laugh.

"Think 'bout it," Skills sings as he dances away. "Think 'bout it."

Tapping the pen on the table, Nathan does think about it.

Five hundred bucks is a lot of money, especially with the tight budget they're on.

But performing at a strip club is not the same as a boy toy auction in a high school gymnasium.

* * *

There's a brisk knock on the door before it's flung open, the spring breeze drifting in.

"Hales! You ready!" Peyton yells from the doorway.

"No," Haley groans.

She's curled up on the carpeted floor of the living room, a spoon in her hand dipping into a container of butter pecan ice-cream.

Shutting the door, Peyton drops her keys on the armchair, leaning her palms on the coffee table to look at her friend.

"What are you doing down there?"

"Trading my sorrows," she mumbles around a mouthful.

Her eyes roam over Haley's outfit.

"What are you wearing? Some sort of maternity underdress?"

Haley's chin starts to tremble and dropping the spoon in the ice-cream, she bursts into tears, her shoulders trembling.

"It's…it's a d-dress," she garbles through her sobs.

"Oh. Are you going somewhere fancy with Nate?"

Stuffing another helping of ice-cream into her mouth, Haley shakes her head.

"My husband thinks I'm the unsexiest woman on the planet!"

Before she can have another spoonful, Peyton swipes the container and heads for the kitchen.

"Hey! Bring that back!"

Peyton ignores her, dumping the spoon in the sink and returning the ice-cream in the freezer.

"Did he really say that you were fugly?"

"Your ability to make things up is not the least bit amusing right now. I said unsexy, not fugly."

"Same difference. Did he call you unsexy?"

Sitting up, Haley wipes at her eyes forcefully.

"He implied it! Why wouldn't he, anyway? I look like a…a…a bubble!"

"And you say I make things up?"

Peyton settles down beside her on the floor, nudging her shoulder slightly.

"You're pregnant, Hales. It's only natural to gain weight."

"I-I know, but today was one of those days that I was not okay with it. I woke up feeling horrible and enormous and…and…"

She lifts her head, her hands cradling her belly. "Did he forget that it's his baby I'm carrying?"

"Nate loves you, Hales. He wouldn't hurt you on purpose."

She's nodding and smiling weakly. "He's been really sweet, especially with my late night cravings."

And not just for food.

Peyton throws an arm around her, giving her a squeeze.

"Because he loves you, you geek."

"God, these hormones are driving me crazy! And I still have months to go looking like a beach ball."

"I thought you said bubble."

Haley laughs as she stands, wiping at the corners of her eyes.

"Just give me a minute to change. If you hear me screaming, it's because nothing fits."

"I'm sure Nate won't mind if you borrowed his sweats," Peyton grins. "I know what will really cheer you up, though."

"What?"

"An Algebra test."

"A confirmation as to how geeky I really am."

Peyton grabs the TV remote, leaning back on the couch.

"Numbers won't call you unsexy, Mrs. Scott. They'll call you stupid, but not unsexy."

* * *

The cafeteria is bustling with loud conversations and laughter.

Grabbing two slices of pizza and a bottle of water, Nathan moves down the line until it's finally his turn at the register.

He's receiving his change when Tim appears from nowhere, reaching for a slice.

"Put that back," he growls along with his stomach.

"But–"

"If you don't want to lose feeling in some of those fingers, I suggest you put that slice back."

He hates it when people mess with his food, and after all this time, it always seems to escape Tim.

"You're stingy, bro."

"I know."

As they walk towards their regular table, Tim yaps in his ear about a party his brother will have over the weekend that will be "off the hizzle", and Nathan must attend to "chat up the babes".

It also seems to escape Tim that Nathan is not the partying bachelor he was before Haley.

There are glossy magazines spread out on the table, Brooke's hands moving across rapidly as she leafs through random pages.

"I think this one would work," she says, grabbing one of the publications.

Haley smiles jubilantly when she sees her husband, moving her bag to the floor from the seat beside her. "Hi, baby."

She's surprisingly cheerful, considering that she wouldn't even speak to him when he left the apartment this morning.

Granted, she'd locked herself up in the bathroom but she was pretty upset with him.

"Hi," he says, touching his lips to hers. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." Her hand snakes over his back to gently knead the nape of his neck. "You?"

"Now it is," he grins, kissing her again. "Have you eaten?"

"Not yet. I'm still absorbing the Red Bull and vodka I had for breakfast."

He laughs, pushing the plate between them. "Want a slice?"

"Oh, come on!" Tim hollers from across the table.

They all turn to him with puzzled expressions.

"What is wrong with you?" Brooke asks, slapping his shoulder. "Did you have to yell in my ear!"

Tim just glares at Haley as she bites into the pizza, huffing softly before looking away.

"What's his problem?" she asks Nathan from the corner of her mouth.

"Still in shock that you stole my heart," he responds quietly.

She chokes out a laugh, in the process getting a piece caught in her windpipe.

Nathan pats her back, holding out the bottle of water.

"You okay?"

She holds up a thumb, gulping down the water like it's her lifeline.

Gasping, she clutches his arm, almost tipping over the plate.

"Honey, I forgot to tell you! I got picked as valedictorian!"

"Holy crap!" With a whoop, Nathan puts his arms around her, giving her a wet kiss.

Pushing back his chair, he stands, pointing to Haley. "You hear that, people? My girl is a freaking genius!"

She's blushing furiously as she pulls him back down, whispering, "That was embarrassing!"

"I'm proud of you and I want the whole cafeteria to know it. And I think you deserve a way better kiss than that silly smooch. Come 'ere."

Giggling, she puts her arms around his neck, meeting his lips in a deep kiss.

They are drawn apart when Tim kicks the bottom of the table.

"Knock it off," he says with a grimace.

"Please," Peyton and Brooke beg simultaneously.

Haley gives him a wink and a quick peck before focusing back on the magazines, the girls resuming their talk about prom dresses.

Nathan knows his wife well enough to notice the way her smile slightly falters when she sees something she likes, looking longingly at one dress after another.

It just breaks his heart that he can't give her everything she wants.

"I gotta go but I'll see you later, okay?" he tells her softly with a kiss to the cheek.

She nods, her brow furrowed at the abruptness of his departure.

"What was that? How come the tutor gets to have your pizza?" Tim asks from beside him as they leave the cafeteria.

Nathan just shakes his head at Tim's sulkiness, pushing the main door open.

"She's my wife, Tim. She owns half of everything I have."

* * *

Ditching Tim when he gets distracted by two juniors, Nathan scouts the halls looking for Skills. He finds him in the gym lifting weights.

Taking a moment before committing himself to whatever crazy scheme Skills has planned, he thinks about what he's about to do.

Now, he's that desperate.

"Just how naked do we have to get?" he finally asks.

With a triumphant chuckle, Skills lowers the weights to the supporting beam before lifting himself off the bench.

"See? I knew you would come around."

"Don't gloat."

"Aight. But don't worry, dawg, we're gonna win this thing."

Nathan shakes his head, already feeling regretful and apprehensive.

"I don't know, man. You haven't seen me dance. I'm terrible."

He's okay with slow dances but anything with a fast beat ices up his legs.

Skills slaps his shoulder with a laugh. "You'll be fine. We got the best choreographer in town."

At that moment, Mouth walks in, a portable radio and stack of CDs in his hands.

"Hey, Nate. Skills said you'd come around," he says, placing the radio on a table.

"It's one of my many talents, Mouth," Skills throws back, glancing at the pile of CDs.

Somewhat nervously, Nathan turns to Skills. "So, um…I know this was your idea but I have another one."

"Are you really that jumpy about dancing?" Skills grins.

"You have no idea." He visibly shudders, shaking himself loose.

"Although what I'm thinking has some dancing. And I'll need your help."

Skills and Mouth look at each other before Mouth asks, "What's up?"

"It's for Haley."

Skills chuckles, rubbing his palms together. "For lil' mama? Sure."

* * *

"I told you, I have to interview a band for a performance at Tric."

Haley looks up at the sign above the door before turning to Peyton, eyebrows raised.

"At a strip club?"

"They promised me a really good show," she grins, stepping out of the Comet. "You want to wait out here?"

Haley hesitates before answering.

The top of the car is down, they're parked in a part of town she doesn't frequent, and darkness is creeping in.

It will probably take a while for Peyton to audition the band.

"I'll come with you," she says, reaching for the handle.

There's no one at the door. Peyton doesn't bother waiting, pushing it open.

"Peyton! What are you doing!"

"Duh. Going in. They're expecting us."

"Us?"

"Me. I mean, me."

"What…what if we're caught for being underage?"

"Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Probably got knocked out of me when I got hit by a car."

"You should stop thinking so much. We won't get caught. Now, will you just move it?"

It's dimly lit when they walk in, the club crowded with women, the air a combination of different brands of perfume.

A few feet away from the door, there's a buffet of finger food set up on several tables pushed against the wall.

Music is playing loudly, but women's piercing yells and screams can still be heard over it.

There's a stage at the front of the club, several steel poles set up on it. A man with bulging muscles is dancing on stage in really tight briefs. While the top half of his body resembles a freakish bodybuilder, the rest of him looks like a misshapen carrot stick.

"Are you sure this is it!" Haley yells, her fingers flexing where she grips the crutches.

Peyton is bopping her head slightly to the music, looking around the club with a Cheshire cat grin.

"Yeah! I guess we're early!"

The women scream when the man on stage starts to lower his briefs.

Haley shrieks, looking away, burying her face in Peyton's shoulder.

"Oh my God!"

"What the hell was that sound you just made?" Peyton laughs.

A palm over the side of her face, Haley just giggles. "Wow. He's pretty confident."

Peyton laughs again, patting the top of Haley's head affectionately. "My God, you amuse me."

"Does the band come on later?"

"Guess so. Since we're here already, we might as well enjoy the show. I see a couple of seats up front. Follow me."

Peyton elbows through the crowd, leaving enough room for Haley to pass.

"Pregnant woman on crutches passing through! Excuse me! Watch your feet! Thank you! Make way for a mother-to-be with an attitude! Hey! You want broken toes along with that sneer?"

Haley is laughing when she sinks down onto a chair, leaning the crutches beside her.

"We should start going for concerts together more often. You are quite an asset."

"Didn't we try that already before you and Nate snuck off somewhere?"

Haley giggles, stretching out her cased leg before her. "Yeah, we did."

Reaching for the small white card in the centre of the table, Haley whistles before showing it to Peyton. "I think this table is reserved, Peyt."

"Live a little, remember? You want something to eat?" Peyton asks, rising from her chair.

"Sure. Check if they have any hot wings."

"Be right back."

The music plays steadily at a lower volume, and from where she is, Haley looks around the semi-dark place, quite intrigued as she's never been to a strip club.

There are booths with leather seats against the walls of the club, and even those are filled with guests.

With the number of women in the club, she reasons that it must be ladies night.

Haley spots two familiar faces at the edge of the wall, but before she can see them fully, they disappear. She's not entirely sure but she thinks she saw Brooke and Bevin.

After what feels like an eternity, Haley wonders if Peyton got lost. She resolves to stay put rather than battle the crowd in search of her friend. And a plate of hot wings.

She's starving.

A deep voice then comes on over the speakers mounted around the large room.

"_The last performer has dedicated his routine to a special lady. His message to her? "Ignore my dancing and listen to the song." Ladies, meet The Basketball Playerrrrr!"_

Guitar starts to play at high volume, and the curtain behind the stage draws open, revealing two hooded guys in matching black tracksuits.

The guitar tune stops suddenly, and then a faster beat begins before a recorded voice shouts, _"REEEEMIX!"_

When the crowd starts to go really wild, a curious Haley turns away from trying to find Peyton in the dark club.

"_We got the afternoon, you got this room for two…"_

Facing the stage, the smile on Haley's face freezes instantly when the guys drop their hoodies.

She blinks hard, just to make sure that she's not hallucinating.

"_One mile to every inch of your skin like porcelain…"_

He's as real as the mad pounding of her heart.

"Holy crap," she mutters softly.

Nathan is smirking at her as he unzips his jacket, revealing his tan, toned chest.

The screaming goes up a notch.

When he winks, she recovers enough to lift her purse onto her lap, digging into it for a couple of bills.

Eight bucks.

With four in each hand, she raises her arms over her head, waving them in the air at her husband, running her tongue across her upper lip, swaying her body to the music.

Nathan laughs, moving closer to the stage, his eyes never wavering from hers as he lip-syncs the words.

"_Your body is a wonderland…"_

In the other end of the club, Peyton nudges the arm of the girl standing beside her.

"You must be pissed that he's not doing this for you, huh!" she yells in Rachel's ear, a plate of wings in her hand.

"Shut the hell up," the redhead spits back angrily before moving away.

"Yeah, you are!" Peyton shouts as Rachel pushes through the crowd.

"Crazy bitchslut," she mutters under her breath.

When Skills and Nathan lose the tracksuits to reveal the Ravens basketball shorts underneath, turning around to shake their butts at the audience, Haley is afraid that there will be a stampede.

Women are throwing bills on the stage, and she wishes she could be able to do it as easily, too.

"_Your body is a wonderland…"_

Someone drops down on the seat Peyton vacated, giving her arm a pat.

"Hey."

With a giddy clap, Haley squeals, "Lucas! Your brother is so damn sexy!"

Lucas makes a face as he turns to look at the stage; Nathan is shaking his hips while pointing to Haley.

"That is disgusting."

"_That_ is why I'm pregnant," she laughs, waving at her husband.

Without breaking eye contact with him, she passes Lucas four bills, saying, "Could you tuck these in his waistband?"

Lucas shakes his head in confusion before asking, "What?"

Haley turns to face him quickly. "Tuck those bills into Na–"

"I heard you. I thought you were kidding."

Haley points to her cast and then the crowd in front of them.

"Peyton's not here. You're my only chance."

"No."

"Yes. Please, Luke?"

Grumbling, Lucas plucks the notes from her hand.

"You're the best!" she shouts behind him before letting out a shriek.

Instead of doing what Haley asked, Lucas places the bills on the stage with the rest of them, looking absolutely horrified at seeing his kid brother doing a strip show.

Haley is fanning her face with the remaining bills as Nathan gyrates his body, dirty, dirty thoughts flitting across her mind.

She can't resist pointing her finger at him and then to herself, and doing a little jig in her seat.

He seems to pause before picking up on the dance again, but this time quite less focused.

She just laughs, urging him to pick it up. He throws her a wink, starting to dance more energetically as the song approaches the end.

Peyton is nibbling on a wing when she gets to the table, dropping the plate next to Haley.

"Is this the band?" Haley asks, itching to run up the stage, her eyes lit up.

"You like?"

Her gaze returns to the retreating performers, biting down on her lip.

"I love."

Grinning, Peyton snatches another chicken wing from the plate, just as the deep voice comes on again.

"_So, ladies. You picked your winner?"_

They both scream as loudly as they can along with everyone else.

* * *

It's been ten minutes since the show ended but there's still no sign of Nathan.

The club has emptied out, with the few remaining patrons huddled in tables and talking quietly.

Holding hands, Bevin and Skills approach from the edge of the backstage.

"Hey, shorty."

"Skills!" Haley gives him a slight bow, holding out a dollar.

"Super charged performance, Antwon. Super charged."

He laughs, taking the bill and returning the bow. "Thanks very much."

"How did you get Nathan up there?"

"I didn't do anything. He just showed up."

She leans slightly sideways to look behind him. "Where is he?"

"He told me to tell you that he'll meet you at the apartment in an hour."

She's disappointed that he didn't stick around, very curious as to what made him leave in such a rush.

"Okay. Thanks."

"Come on, baby. You need to give me a private performance of what you did up there," Bevin says, pulling at his hand.

"Later!" he yells as Bevin drags him behind her.

Shaking her head in amusement, Haley reaches for her purse, throwing it over her shoulder before grabbing the crutches.

The worst thing about the crutches is the way they make her armpits and palms sore, regardless of the padding. The forearm crutches were not an option due to her injury being temporary, not long term.

After finding a comfortable position, she shuffles towards one of the booths where Peyton, Lucas and Brooke are nursing glasses of water.

* * *

"Thanks!" Haley calls out.

Peyton honks as she drives out of their parking lot, waving a hand goodbye.

Haley hobbles into the apartment, locking the door behind her and hooking the keys in the key holder.

"You're home."

Startled, she turns around, seeing her husband standing in the doorway of their bedroom.

"You're early."

He grins, motioning her over with a forefinger. "It didn't take too long. I want to show you something."

Haley looks at him curiously as he disappears into the bedroom.

When she gets there, he's seated at the edge of the bed, regarding her quietly.

"Everything okay, babe?" she asks worriedly.

He nods, patting the space beside him.

"I'm sorry about this morning," he starts when she's close enough. "I shouldn't ha–"

She cuts him off with a kiss, sucking on his lower lip before pulling away.

"Are you kidding? I've been acting like a complete psycho with my moods and you've not divorced me yet. I should have been the one shaking my booty for you."

"You'd have landed on your cute booty," he teases.

With a laugh, she moves to stand before him, leaning slightly on the bed for support.

"There was another reason I was up there. I needed some quick cash."

"What for?"

Reaching under the bed, he drags out a bronze box.

"This."

Pushing aside the soft wrapping tissue, Haley's mouth puckers in surprise.

"Oh my God…"

"They actually had prom dresses in the maternity section," he explains, pulling out the dress for her. "Who knew?"

It's a knee-length sheer piece, trimmed with a black, lacy floral pattern on the hem and empire waist. The straps are made of velvet, the same floral pattern and some delicate beading adorned over them.

"Nathan…this is really beautiful…"

She runs her fingers over the soft gathers of the silk dress, tears welling in her eyes.

"I just want you to have a great prom, Hales," he says sincerely, blue eyes awash with tenderness.

"Thank you. I love it. Maybe we should have waited to save the money until after you got a job."

His fingers reach to rub gently at her wet cheek. "I'll get a job. I know we're not in the best financial situation right now…no, let me finish. I know it's my fault that we're in this mess and I'm going to make it right. I want you to have this. It's prom, Hales, and God help me but my wife is not going to prom in sweatpants."

Nathan puts the dress back in the box, his hands resting on Haley's waist.

"You said that in a perfect world you wear a pretty dress and you dance with the man you love."

"Well…I don't think I'm going to be dancing. I mean, the doctor said that it takes most people si–"

It's his turn to cut her off with a kiss. "You're not most people. I've seen how you are when you set your mind to something. You can do this. I'll help you."

She laughs through her tears, her arms encircling his neck as she claims his lips in a deep kiss.

"You're going to look beautiful at prom, baby…"

He pecks her lips softly. "…and we are going to party with our friends until we drop."

She presses her nose against his shoulder. "I could go into labour during all that excitement, you know."

Her husband rubs slightly at her belly. "This little guy isn't coming for another three months."

Pulling away from him, her fingers run through his thick, dark hair.

"I love you."

"I love you, too," he says, kissing her again.

"My body is a wonderland, huh?" she teases.

"You have no idea. And I figured that _Sexual Healing_ should just stay between us," he says, lowering her gently to the bed and tickling her back, leading her into a fit of giggles.

"If you want some, you're gonna have to do better than that," she laughs.

His fingers start to trail the side of her body, from her shoulder to the waistband of her jeans.

Deftly, they go under her shirt to rub at the tattoo on her lower back.

She lets out a small groan, her eyes fluttering closed at his ministrations.

"How about a dance?" he murmurs against her neck, placing a kiss at the base of her throat. "Will that get me some?"

"I – I'll put the music on."


End file.
